


Recycled Heretics

by JadenSilver



Series: Chemical Imbalance [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadenSilver/pseuds/JadenSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolina and Church have a lot in common. They're both the result of the selfishness of a very sad man. They're both technically dead and need to stay hidden because of it. And they've both lost a lot, mostly in the form of friends. Let's see if we can change one of those, shall we? </p><p>(Co-written by lilfoxkit on fanfiction.net.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here for your reading pleasure is the first chapter of our sort-of-sequel story for Chemical Imbalance! This one follows Carolina and Church a little while after they left the reds and blues. I don't want to say much more, since you've probably already read it in the summary, but it's gonna be a kickass adventure that I'm sure you'll all love. Also, even more important is that it is co-written by my dear friend (and boyfriend) lilfoxkit. The main idea for this story is all his, and it's been a true honor to be able to write it with him.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy and feel free to let us know what you think.

A chill ran down Major Reclin's spine as he peered down at his holo-pad. He had just received two messages, and he couldn't help but feel they were slightly connected. One was from a former colleague and school mate, informing him that another associate, Dr. Leonard Church, had been found dead at an abandoned facility from his project. The other was a subpoena from his commanding officer, ordering a report about his involvement with an old associate by the name of Dr. Han. Both Dr. Church and Dr. Han, as well as himself, had been directors of research projects during the war. Han had also been branded a war criminal and was the most recent target of the UNSC. It was a shame, really; the three of them had studied psychology at one of Earth's more prestigious universities together. Now they all seemed to have gone rogue in one way or another.

Tapping his index finger against the blinking light of his tablet, his aged face split with a soft smile. While regrettable, he couldn't say this was a surprise. He'd expected something like this for some time now, and was already prepared.

Standing up, the officer walked out of his dimly lit room, only to halt at a sealed door. It took him a moment to enter the code on the door before, with a soft hiss, the door slid open, allowing the Major to enter. He looked at the two beings strapped against sterile looking operating tables; one was a rather large gray, leathery skinned creature who was struggling against his restraints like a madman, while its companion stared silently at the doctor. The Major took a moment to lay a hand on the creature's shoulder, murmuring soft reassurances until it calmed down. He then approached the second being, which was of a much more human nature, appearing to be in his late forties. The patients name and rank were listed on the tablet in the Major's hands, reading Senior Master Sergeant Dylan T. Derara, USNC Air Force.

"It's good to see you again, mi Mayor," Derara greeted, sounding almost happy. He then paused, his countenance suddenly changing like he'd remembered something important. Blinking a few times, he continued in a monotone. "Is there something you require of Number 443 and Number 444 today?"

Major Reclin sighed at the change in demeanor. He rather enjoyed number 443, considering the Sergeant to be one of his better products from Project Heretic. He could never completely break the man's cultural identity, though in the aftermath of the war and his project, he considered this a blessing; it helped the Major consider that there may have been hope of rehabilitating his men someday.

"Oh, nothing today Dylan," he said with false casualness, waving his hand. "I just need to perform a routine inspection of your cybernetic implants." He felt bad for the small lie, though it was mostly true. He needed to make sure all of his patients were in the best possible condition for what was planned.

The brainwashed soldier responded by closing his eyes and waiting for the Major to perform the surgery. While he only needed to check one of them, Reclin always made sure that both subject 443 and 444 were together during surgeries and check-ups. During the war, he'd forced a psychological bond between the pair as a precaution against escape, as well as increase their efficiency on missions together. Were they to be separate for too long, there could be… alarming repercussions.

The Major picked up a sharp looking scalpel, only to place it rather swiftly against the man's head. As blood oozed onto the floor, both humans remained deathly still as the screams of the Sangheili echoed throughout the room. The creature itself had been known to sustain major injuries during battle without showing much concern, but its attitude was far different when its partner was harmed. Major Reclin wished he could do something to calm the creature, but he knew it was best if he simply completed his work as quickly as possible. Nothing else would ease the Alien's mind.

Grunting, the Major peeled back the skin with his bare fingers. Throughout the muscles of the airman's skull, various metallic devices could be seen, some branching out in a tentacle-like fashion, others stopping abruptly to make a cracked spider web pattern.

"All right Sergeant, everything appears to be in order," he reported. As he spoke, blood splattered onto Reclin's shoes, causing him to look up at his patients head wound in concern.

"Thank you, sir. Number 443 requesting medical assistance. Status: Number 443 has minor head wound and losing blood pressure," said Sergeant Derera in an empty voice.

"Oh, sorry," the Major said quickly, truly regretting that he'd had to do this to the agent. Once again he looked with disgust and remorse at the abomination he'd made of this man before picking up a circular device.

Pulling the trigger, the device began to glow a queer green color while the wound started to heal up at a rather rapid pace. Leaning over Sergeant Derara's body, he released the restraints upon the man, leaving the soldier to release his partner as he exited the room, hearing the soldier make soothing noises at the distraught creature. Pacing back over to his desk, the Major glanced down at his tablet once again. Yet another message was displayed, though this time the Major hadn't been expecting anything.

Tapping it open, bright large white words flashed on the screen. "THEY ARE COMING STOP. RUN STOP."

The Majors' face paled. They had been found. He always knew his job would catch up with him one day. Still, he had time before the authorities arrived, or at least he hoped he did. The Major was stationed out on an Arctic based planet, being contained within an older military base that had been recycled to him for his research and Project Heretic as a whole. The base was created during the Great War as an observational post, only to be transformed into a training facility, then finally a research laboratory.

As the blood rushed back into the Majors' face, he quietly walked into the laboratory, seeing that the pair bond were standing at attention. "Get the others, we are leaving base," He ordered. At the Majors word, the alien and human bolted out of the surgical room at inhuman speeds, presumably to get suited up and deliver the news to the other agents. The Major had other things to attend to before they could leave, such as copying over data, shutting down the facility and preparing an escape vehicle.

Rushing over to a nearby computer console, the Major quickly typed in select commands into the holographic keyboard; instantly, the screen lit up in a blaze of colors, swirling around in a small dance as the pixels shifted. Then, just as quick as it came, the screen faded into a black color indicating that the system had been shut down. He had to hurry; if he was found, everything he fought for would be lost. The doors to his personal office opened as 443 and 444 stood once more at attention in their BDUs. Two other bonded units, each consisting of a mix of aliens and humans, followed them.

"Sir, before system destruction, sensors indicate that enemy eta is twenty minutes. Orders?"

"I need you and T-3 to prepare for evacuation," Reclin instructed. When he noticed some of the agents shift nervously, he added. "Don't worry. I'll join you soon."

"Si, my Mayor."

Just after the duo left, a loud explosion echoed throughout the base; the enemy had arrived sooner than expected. Muttering a curse under his breath, the Major quickly began transferring the remaining data from his holo-tablet into his implants, urging it to go faster despite the physical impossibility. One of the aliens in the remaining groups whined, indicating it wanted him to hurry. More rumbles were heard throughout the base as the last of the data transferred. With great haste, the Major ran out into the vehicle bay and aboard a Pelican-class drop ship, followed closely by his patients. With the Director on board, the engines fired up and skirted out of the base, barely missing the enemy soldiers entering the bay.

Looking over at the beast sitting in the seat next to him, the Major placed a gentle hand upon its head.

"Don't worry, T-3," he said comfortingly, recognizing the creature's nervousness. "We know what to do. We've planned for this. Just follow my lead."

In response the alien let out a soft whining noise as it nuzzled against the Majors hand. Reclin let out a long sigh, even with what little support their group had, he had a bad feeling about the future to come.


	2. Chapter 2

"Carolina, we're going to be breeched in ten seconds."

"Can you try to pick up the pace?” the teal armored woman asked in a grim tone while pointing her rifle at the door.

"Shut up, I'm going as fast as I can," Epsilon replied before refocusing all of his attention back to the data he was trying to manipulate.

"Any chance you can stop them from getting through the door?" she asked, limping back to find a better firing position. She'd landed wrong during their entrance into the building, and though the pain in her ankle was negligible, it had slowed down their entire mission.   
  
"There's not much I can do against a fucking blow torch, sis," he said distractedly. There was a moment where the only sounds were Carolina’s breathing and the drone of a tool burning through metal. "Alright, I've got the data,” Church suddenly announced. “It looks like what we're looking for is... Ah, shit!"   
  
"What?" she asked, watching a line of orange grow across one side of the door.   
  
"It's on the other side of the building," the AI answered angrily.

"You're joking," she said in an annoyed tone, though most of her attention was currently set on staying alive. "Are there any quick exits?"  
  
"Not unless you consider jumping out a window and falling to the ground an option."   
  
Just before she could respond, the door burst open.

Carolina felt her speed unit kick in just as the door fell, giving her a perfect line of enemy heads to shoot. She took aim and fired as quickly as she could, watching with some annoyance as only seven of her ten targets fell. She was about to fire again when she suddenly returned to normal speed. She dove toward the table behind her and kicked it over as the guards began firing.   
  
"What the hell was that?" she snapped, head throbbing from the sudden shift in speed.   
  
"Delta said something was up with the unit," Church explained. "Using it any longer could have damaged your heart."

"Church wh-"  
  
"You know as well as I do how that thing works, the amount of electrical impulses it was sending was way outside of the allowed algorithm,” he responded in a harsh tone, though Carolina had stopped paying attention, instead opting to return fire. She knew all too well what was going on; not only was her body starting to fail her but her equipment was getting rather outdated.  
  
The Freelancers were some of the first to incorporate the armor enhancements that inspired what currents Spartans were using. Unfortunately, said Freelancers weren’t built for the strain of the armor like the Spartans were, and Carolina had already been using hers long past the recommended time. To top it off, the older equipment like she had was much more physically taxing than what had been developed recently. Top Tier agents got some of the best equipment they had at the time, and her speed unit, while lifesaving, was never meant for long term use.

Carolina managed to take out the last three guards as more began pouring into the room. "Find me a way out of here," she ordered, knowing she couldn't fight past them all without enhanced speed.

"I'm working on it, now shut up and shoot." He replied.

Carolina held back her retort and did as she was told. Although each bullet from her gun seemed to remove one of the guards from the fight, there still didn't seem to be any end to them. Inch by inch, they seemed to be getting further into the room. "Church..."   
  
"Alright, I think I have an idea," he said. "But it's risky."   
  
"Can't be worse that staying here," she reasoned, ready to take a risk to escape.   
  
"Theta thinks he can manipulate the shield to be a bit closer to you while Delta and I run the speed unit," he said. "We can only keep it going for a second, but it should get you past these guys."   
  
"What's the risk?"

"Aside from coma, death, heart failure, kidney failure, paralysis and ripping every muscle in your body?" he asked sarcastically, listing off a few of the possible outcomes. "Becoming more bullets than human."

"Chance of survival?" Carolina demanded, already not liking their plan.  
  
"A whole lot lower than we'd like," he admitted. "But the other option is to stay here and wait for these guys to kill you anyway. On your left!" he shouted suddenly, causing her to swivel and shoot a guard who'd almost managed to sneak up on her. "You need to make a choice now, 'Lina."

"Damn… Alright do it." She ordered, ejecting her magazine and ramming a new one into her rifle.

There was a brief pause before the shield flickered to life around her, more ovular and pointed at the front that usual, and hovering less than a foot away from her skin. At the same moment she felt the speed unit kick in. Carolina didn't wait for Epsilon's signal to move. She ran from behind her cover, knocking people out of her way without a thought as she charged to the door. The shield faded and she began to slow as she reached the first empty section of hall behind the guards.

A sharp pain rippled though her chest, forcing her to take a minute to realize that it was her own heavy breathing. Without the armor enhancement launching her forward, she found her legs slowing to a halt.

"Move!" Epsilon ordered, uncharacteristically delivering orders to push past her suddenly fogged mind. He began taking over the hydraulics in her armor's legs to nudge her forward.   
  
Carolina nodded, running again as she tried to keep herself breathing.

"Shit... I think... I think that overdid it a bit. Let's hurry up and find the target," she said between gasping pants.

"You'll be fine," a younger voice said encouragingly. Carolina could see the slight shift in Epsilon's stance as he let Theta speak. "I know you can do it. Just keep going."

"Thank you Theta," she whispered with a small smile. 

"SHE WENT THIS WAY!" Echoed down the halls.

"Just keep moving, sis," Epsilon said, following along at her shoulder. "We'll get in, plant the charges, and get out." 

"Do you have an exit planned?"

"D and the twins are working on it," he answered.

"Alright," she said, reverting to a more professional tone. Church recognized it a s a tactic to cover up her earlier emotion, though he didn’t comment on this. Running down the hall, she eventually found her target in question.

She sprinted into a large storage room, filled with boxes of weapons and ammunition, as well as some vehicles and more specialized equipment. She followed Church’s direction to a shelf in the back of the room. She pulled the long, coffin-esque box down and began to open it, half expecting to find a body from the container's shape. Instead, the lid flipped up to reveal a suit of brown and purple power armor. 

"Michigan," Carolina whispered, barely able to remember the lower ranked agent's face. He'd been one of the first to die during the project, caught in an explosion during a mission long before the Meta turned everything upside down. The Director hadn't implemented the Recovery program yet, and Mich's armor was never found. Until now.

"Let's set the charge and get out of here," Epsilon said, wanting to keep moving as much as Carolina did. Though he had no connection to the Agent, he could recognize Carolina’s distracted thoughts, and guessed some of what she must be thinking. “Come on, ‘Lina. We can’t stay,” he said in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Carolina nodded, setting up the explosives with practiced fingers. She used a bit more than was strictly necessary, but she felt it wouldn't hurt to destroy all of the equipment in this base, rather than just the armor. It was obvious that none of it was possessed legally, and she didn’t like leaving it in the wrong hands. Once everything was ready she set the timer and stood. 

"Exit?" she demanded, striding away from the doomed armor.

A dot appeared on her HUD, leading her to a window on the side of the building. "Go down the emergency exit and take a sharp left after twelve steps down. Then get ready to do some acrobatics," Church instructed. A bit of enthusiasm leaked through his voice, signaling Theta’s involvement with some portion of the plan.

She ran where he said, seeing a rooftop that was just barely within her jump limit. 

"Think you can make it?" Church asked, voice just a bit goading. He knew the maneuvers earlier had tired her out. He had to hope a jab at her pride would give her what she needed to make this escape.

"I can handle it, just make sure I don't break to any bones." She said in a serious tone before jumping off the roof at an executive angle; her left foot hit the side of the building, allowing her to bounce off it and use the gained kinetic potential energy to alter her height.

She came to a rolling stop on the other roof and pushed back to her feet sluggishly. "Come on, keep moving!" Church urged, the other AIs whispering the same sentiment in the back ground. More shouts could be heard from the building, signaling their continued pursuit.

Standing up she rushed down the next roof top and the one after that, a loud explosion rippling though her headset. The shockwave of which pushed at her back, though there wasn’t enough force to knock her over. She realized with minor dismay that she’d barely made it to a safe distance.

"Mission accomplished," Church congratulated. Carolina panted in response, maintaining her pace. "Hey, you can slow down now. We got them."

"Not until we're at a safe distance," she said, sounding distracted.

"No. Now," he insisted. "We aren't that far from the ship, and we both know you can't keep going like this." 

"I'll manage."

Suddenly, despite her best efforts to will her body forward, Carolina found that she could no longer move. She flexed the muscles in her leg and determined Church had taken over her hydraulics to keep her in place.

"Carolina," He said in a serious tone. "It's over. There's nothing to prove."

"Stop," she said instantly, standing with her back against a metal structure. She didn't know what purpose it served here above the city, but it blocked her from sight of the building she'd left. 

"It's okay to slow down sometimes," Theta said supportively. She couldn't help but feel like Church was trying to use the younger AI memory to manipulate her. He knew she couldn't brush Theta off like she did the others, due to his childish nature. It would hurt his feelings, and that wasn’t something she was willing to do. "You don't always have to be perfect. That's what North used to say."

Something seemed to snap in her, causing her to jerk her head right at the younger AI. "Shut up," she said coldly. She couldn't handle hearing that right now. She'd already looked one ghost in the face. She didn't need to hear another's name. She began running again, despite their protests.

Theta looked sad for a moment, staring down at his feet, before fading away, replaced by Delta. "Carolina," the green AI said seriously. "Theta and Epsilon are correct. You cannot continue at your current pace." 

"Stop it, D..."

"Your body took damage when we activated the speed unit and the dome shield simultaneously," he continued, talking over her. "You need to be cautious to not damage yourself further before we reach the ship." 

"Shouldn't have left the healing unit behind," Carolina muttered, finally relenting and slowing a bit as they reached the edge of the roof. 

"But we did," Delta said. "We cannot use it to help you until we get back."

"And besides," Epsilon said, replacing the Green AI. "The Healing Unit isn't a cure all, you still need to take care of your body. I hate to say it but you're not as young as yo-"

"I know that,” she snapped, cutting him off. “But we can’t… we can’t just stop,” she continued more quietly. “Freelancer took too much from too many people, and its mistakes are still out there causing more damage. We can’t stop until we’ve fixed that. I won’t let what happened to us happen to someone else.”

"It's not like any of it was your fault," he said as she began climbing down. There was a greater chance of being seen on the ground, where more people might be, but it was better than being in the open up above. 

"I was there," she said. "And you know how much I helped him." She didn’t need to say who ‘he’ was. There was only one man who could be thought of as responsible for both of their problems.

"You didn't know what he was doing."

"Because I didn't look!" she snapped. "I didn't try to see what was wrong with that place. That's as bad as helping willingly."

"This isn't what they would have wanted for you, and you know it. They would have wanted you to move on. The others did. I mean hell, Washington's getting married in a couple of months!"

"Then maybe I'm not as strong as he is," she said quietly. 

"Or you just don't want to be," the AI countered. "'Lina, I know what it's like to only have your memories left, but you have to let that go. You can't live in your past." 

"Then what’s the other option, Epsilon? York was the only man I'll ever want to love. I… I’ll never find something like that again. What do I have left aside from that?" 

"And all I ever wanted was Tex," he explained. "But you saw what that caused. Refusing to let someone go... it's never a good thing. York wouldn't want that for you."

"Epsilon, I've accepted he's gone, I know that, but this is what we were meant to do in life."

"That doesn't mean you're meant to kill yourself doing it," he muttered.

"Just… stop talking," she ordered, forcing him into hibernation mode.

Carolina spent the rest of the walk back to their ship in silence. She'd tried her best not to think about her team recently. The memories were too painful, even with how long it had been since Freelancer. Still, she couldn't help but think about them now. She wondered what York would think of what she was doing right now. She hoped North would approve of how she treated Theta.

Her mind flashed to the other members of her team, from CT to Maine and Florida and the others. They were the closest thing she ever had to a real family and she had often, at least before Texas arrived, thought of them as such. Climbing into her ship, she gave one last solemn goodbye to the planet, needing to spend some time recovering.

Once they broke atmosphere and were far enough away that she was sure no one could follow them, Carolina allowed Epsilon to come back online. He stared at her quietly for a few moments, obviously angry about the forced hibernation, before speaking. 

"Delta and I were talking, and we think the healing unit might work a bit better on you if you go to sleep while we run it," he said.

She blinked a bit, finding the situations irony not lost on her; this wasn't the first time they had done this, though, so she didn't bother questioning it before she made her way over to the light-force cryo pod. The instrument looked much more like a bed then a standard cryo-tube because it was made for light space travel with the comfort of having a bed while it still slowed one's cellular structure enough to disengage the effects of minor time dilation that went with traveling between local planets in a solar system. 

"Wake me up in a week or two when the damage has been healed," she ordered, sealing the top half of her bed with a cold hiss. Leaning over she inserted a long needle into her IV slot, allowing the human anti-freeze chemicals to do their job before finally turning on the self initiated flash freeze system. After that, there was merely the feeling of sudden cold, then darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Carolina awoke and sat up slowly, still feeling most of the pain from her previous encounter. “What’s wrong?” she asked, knowing Epsilon must have woken her early for a reason.

“There’s a ship,” Church said simply, waiting for her to join him in the cockpit. “There,” he continued once she could see the display.

Sure enough, there was a small vessel flying alongside their own. “What do they want?” Carolina demanded as she slipped into the pilot’s seat.

“Haven’t said yet,” Epsilon answered. “I wanted to wake you before hailing.”

Carolina nodded for him to continue, hearing the basic greeting he sent. A moment later they received a reply. It was in text format, and Church scanned it a few times before displaying it on the screen.

“I still remember the rain in September,” Carolina read aloud.

“The fuck does that mean?” Church asked before noticing her expression. It was the same as when she’d seen the armor before. “’Lina?” he said worriedly.

Her eyes snapped away from the message to him. “I… I know that code,” she explained distractedly.

“What’s it mean?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “It doesn’t mean anything. But… we have to get aboard that ship.”

“What?” Church snapped. “Look, I know your head’s still a little messed up after that mission, but this is an unmarked, unknown vessel in the middle of space. We don’t know who or what’s over there, and you really aren’t in any condition to take any risks.”

“Church,” she said seriously. “Trust me. Please.”

The AI stared at her for a few more moments before groaning out an angry “fine.” He sent the strange ship a message including boarding procedures and a warning to not resist. Surprisingly, they didn’t argue at all.

“These people are acting weird,” he warned as Carolina put her helmet back on. He noted with mild relief that she already had her gun out. “At least you’re not being a complete dumbass,” he muttered, setting up the ship to board. Once everything was ready he jumped back to Carolina’s armor.

“Ready?” she asked, feeling a bump as the other ship docked with theirs.

“I’d be more ready if you told me what the fuck’s going on,” he said. This earned him a sharp glare, which he felt more than saw. “Alright, alright, I’m ready,” he said grumpily. He finally stopped sulking and set up to activate any of the upgrades he might need, trying to be prepared for anything.

Carolina nodded before hitting the control on the ship’s airlock. It opened slowly and she stepped into the small chamber. After waiting the few and far too long seconds for the door behind her to close, the one before her opened. Carolina finally entered the strange ship.

There were two figures standing a safe distance away. They were both obscured by shadow so she couldn’t see their faces, but from their size and stance she determined they had to be human, and were wearing power armor.

“Who are you?” she demanded, aiming a pistol in the general direction of the figures. Church told her there were no other people on board according to her motion trackers. “What are you doing out here?”

“And why are you jackasses following us?” Church added far more venomously.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” a muffled voice said. Carolina thought it was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Just promise not to freak out,” a second voice requested, sounding oddly eager. His voice sounded even more familiar, though Carolina tried to block out what it reminded her of.

“Tell me your names. Now!” Carolina nearly shouted.

“No point. You already know them,” the second voice claimed. Before she could ask what this meant, one of the men stepped forward. He was wearing brownish gold armor and pulled off his helmet to reveal his face.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as she took in the brown hair, matching eyes, tan skin, and well defined jaw. Few in the universe would be able to deny that it wasn’t handsome, but to her it was sickening.

Carolina’s immediate reaction was anger. Whatever this thing was, whoever made it, she was going to kill them. There are some lines that just weren’t mean to be crossed, and using York’s image against her was one of them.

The she saw the look on his, its, face. It was surprise and disbelief which seemed to be slowly giving way to joy. There was movement behind the thing-that-couldn’t-be-York, and she looked over its shoulder to see a pale man with blond hair, blue eyes, and one of the most genuine smiles she’d ever seem. She knew that one must have been meant to be North.

“Nice to see you again, boss,” the blonde said, keeping his distance while his companion inched forward.

She almost fell for it, almost reached out for them, before catching York’s eyes. Eyes. Two of them. Her mind flashed to a scarred white pupil and angry red lines of damaged skin, marking the first time she’d almost lost him. That discrepancy was enough to break the spell. The hand she may have been reaching out in search of a hug instantly clenches into a fist, and she drives it forward into the handsome, false face.

The man who looked like York fell flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in bewilderment.

Once she was looking closer, Carolina noticed a few other things off about these men. Their ages were the biggest problem. York’s last birthday before he died was aboard the Mother of Invention. She could still remember Wash teasing him about the difficulties of finding thirty two candles. By now, he should have been in his forties, and nearing fifty.  And North was meant to be a few years older than him. Now, they both looked like they were in their twenties.

“At least we know it’s you,” North said, chuckling a bit as he tried to defuse the situation with humor. He began to step forward to help his friend up.

“Don’t move,” Carolina ordered, aiming her pistol more forcefully at the blonde.

“Easy, ‘Lina,” York groaned, sitting up slowly.

“Don’t,” she warned again. Her hand twitched as she nearly shifted her aim to the brunette before stopping herself. She told herself North’s a bigger threat, and that’s why she had to keep aimed at him. She wouldn’t admit, even in her own mind, that she couldn’t stand the thought of shooting York, even if she didn’t believe it was him.

“Easy,” York repeated. He managed to sit up but chose not to reach his feet yet. “Look, it took a lot of work to put me and North back together. It’d be a shame for you to mess all that up so quickly.”

“Stop talking,” she said, glaring at him. Her eyes then moved back to North. “You, tell me what’s going on,” she ordered.

“That’s, ah, a bit of a long story,” he said nervously.

“Then you should stop wasting time,” Carolina insisted.

North sighed and ran a gloved hand through his hair, wincing when some got caught and pulled by the finger joints. “Do you mind if York helps?” he requested. He could tell Carolina was doing her best to not let the brunette talk. He didn’t blame her. York’s presence must have been having a far greater emotional effect than his own. “I don’t think I can give you the whole story on my own.”

“Fine,” she ground out. “But no sudden moves,” she warned, backing up a bit more as York stood.

“Alright,” the brunette began. “Well, the first thing I remember…”

 

* * *

 

 

He remembered pain, first. He didn't feel pain, but he remembered it, in the same way that would cause one to be tentative of movement after an injury. He then remembered darkness, though he couldn't tell how long it lasted. Eventually that void began to lift, though, and he found himself able to think. It was at this point that a difficult and slightly worrying thought came to him.

He didn't know where he was or how he got there.

He couldn't remember his name either.

He tried to focus on one thing, one thing only, amidst the thousand swirling questions, thinking, reaching out into what memories he could muster.

What was it?

Oh right, his name was Eric.

It was at this point he noticed something, something that had been going on for quite some time now from the corner of his eye. There had been a small white light and every so often it would get a little bigger, then a bit bigger and now it was all he could see.

And then, he was finally awake. He realized instantly that there was a large amount of fluid in his ears, accompanied by a feeling similar to weightlessness. Even so, beyond the pressure of some form of liquid surrounding him, there was something else. It was muffled but it was there.

"...don't know Doctor, they both have extensive damage..."

That was all he could pick up as the fluid drained from his ears and though he couldn't will his eyelids open just yet, he managed to strain his ears to hear a little more.

"Don't be silly, they are ready. And even if they're not, we need them."

Forcing his eyes open with a rather harsh push, he was greeted with the slightly blurred image of two men standing over him, each wearing the sterile white he'd come to associate with doctors. He lifted his head with great effort and looked down at himself, seeing his own naked, muscular body lying against a metal table. It then occurred to him for the first time that he was in a very cold environment, feeling goose bumps forming on his arms. Curling his brow, he saw that one of the men standing over him was smiling at him.

"Ah, boyo, you're awake," the stranger said, sounding relieved. "It was touch and go for a while there; you're a very lucky young man. Now hold still this might hurt a little as I was hopin' that ye'd be asleep for a wee bit longer."

Suddenly he felt a large amount of pin pricks throughout his biceps and torso; his instant reaction was to curl his body in defense.

"Hey, hey, easy now, it will be over in a minute."

As strange as it was, the speaker's voice had a calming effect. Opening his mouth to speak, Eric felt the painful acid of his stomach tract usher up to his throat. Forcing it back down, a sharp pain shot though his arm while his mind went blank.

Several hours later, Eric opened his eyes after awaking from his medically induced coma. Letting out a low groan, the man placed a hand against his head. He opened his eyes and looked around only to see a much different environment. Instead of the harsh florescent lighting of the previous room, he was now in a hospital bed with warm blankets draped over him. Several monitors were scattered about, some unplugged, but for the most part, he saw that they were hooked up to him in some manner.

"What the…?" he said, tracing the wires that scaled down his arm with aggressive vigor.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," a confusingly familiar voice called out. "I'm pretty sure it was put there for a reason."

He looked around, unable to see the owner of the voice itself. Instead, Eric saw a large curtain separating him from the speaker, a large, shadowy outline of a human body being the only indicator there was anything there at all though the man did seem very familiar.

The silhouette matched with the voice tugged at something in his memory, and he strained to grasp what it was.

"John?" he finally asked, the illusive thought finally captured in his mind.

"Good to see your brain is still functioning, Eric," the other man said, compassionate voice calmingly familiar to Eric. "Though honestly, I didn't think we'd see each other again," John continued. "Not after what happened with the Director and everything."

"Where are we?" Eric asked, trying and failing to sit up. What he could see of himself didn't look atrophied, but he still felt rather weak. He began to wonder how long he'd been in this place, wherever it was. He glanced around the room, noting that it was definitely not the infirmary aboard the Mother of Invention.

"I'm not sure," John answered honestly, "but I'll tell you what I've figured out so far. I saw them wheel you in about an hour or so after I woke up, though I didn't really recognize you at first. That's not really surprising, considering what I overheard them say this place was for, but..."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, trying to stop John's rambling so he could get a clear answer.

"Well I don't have all the details but as far as I can tell th-"

John paused rather abruptly, causing Eric to feel a small knot form in his stomach. He couldn't see anyone else behind the curtain, though they may have just been too far away for the light to reflect properly against the clothe that separated him from his friend.

"Hello," he heard an unfamiliar voice with a thick Irish accent say.

"Hey, Doc," he heard John respond, addressing the new arrival.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything for you boys," the doctor said.

"Hey, you're that guy from before!" Eric yelled out across the room, recognizing the man's voice from his earlier awakening. He instantly regretted this action as the same acidic feeling welled up in his throat.

"If yer referring to me, boyo, you're correct," the man said, pushing aside the curtain separating the two patients. A warm smile covered his face, accentuating the creases marking many years of life. Eric found his eyes drawn up to the man's hair, which was a vibrant orange, before once again settling on his eyes.

"Agents North Dakota and New York," he said, nodding to John and Eric in turn. "I am Dr. Vladimir. Allow me to welcome you to Project Recycle."

Eric felt his muscle tense up as he instantly forgot about his previous physical displeasure. He didn't like the sound of the word 'project' here. If this was anything like Project Freelancer, both he and John could be in serious trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

"Project?" Carolina repeated, interrupting the story for a moment. Her voice held even more distrust than before, if that was possible.

North nodded. "We both felt the same way when we heard it," he explained. "Didn't like the idea of being in another project's custody after Freelancer."

"Have you ever heard of Recycle?" York asked. Carolina jumped a bit at the sound of his voice, though she held most of her composure as she answered.

"Director Church mentioned them," she admitted. "While they didn't trade with Freelancer, they did share ideas and were in close communication for a time."

"That's what Dr. Vladimir said," North agreed, nodding. "Were you aware of what they did?"

"It was... a rehabilitation project," she answered slowly. "At least that's what official records said."

"And they said Freelancer was a research facility," York countered. "Official records can't exactly be trusted."

Carolina looked at him skeptically. "So what was Recycle really about?"

"Restoration, re-creation, and rehabilitation of high value assets and soldiers," North recited. "Basically, they did their best to keep useful personnel working during the war."

"As you can expect, it went beyond that," York continued. "Sometimes they wouldn't arrive on the scene until after a subject was already dead. That's where Vladimir came in."

* * *

"Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but if we remain calm I'm sure we can get through them." Yet again, the doctors' voice seemed to have a soothing effect on Eric.

Eric leaned back, seeming to be deep in thought. "Alright, let's keep this simple for now," he finally said, relying on his training to remain calm as he searched for answers. "I'll ask a question and you answer, alright?"

"Very well, ask away," the doctor agreed.

"First question, what is Project Recycle?"

"Project Recycle is a Special Operations program funded by the Samson Initiative designed to bring back notable soldiers and personnel from all branches of the UNSC in fighting condition," he rattled off the rehearsed explanation, sounding like a pamphlet at a seminar. "Although Project Recycle has several other minor functions, it is purely a research based program, if that's what you're worried about," He said in a joking manner.

"Alright," Eric said slowly, absorbing the words as he formed his next question. "How does this work, exactly? Last thing I remember, I thought I was dying. Did you use some new medical procedure to save us?"

"Ah, now that's the fun part. Taking a heavy sample of your DNA, we were able to create a hybrid-flash clone of your body, then making sure there were no special abnormalities to take care of; we injected several types of stem cells into the clone in order to make sure there would be no nasty genetic based problems in the future. Though there has proven to be some minor side effects to this, such as cellular regression, muscle memory loss, loss of muscle mass, small things like that that can be fixed over time."

The doctor paused to inhale before continuing.

"Now the tricky part was getting that wonderful brain of yours back together, and thankfully in your case we were able to find various bits of brain matter at the site of your death, most of which contained neural relays with bits of your memory. The rest we patched together using old records, various video feeds etcetera. Sadly, your friend over there had to have a bit more patch work done to him so he may not remember everything, though over time and with the correct input, he may form his own memories of what happen."

Nearly everything the doctor said to Eric was lost on him, biology wasn't his strong suit. Though from the bits and pieces he was able to comprehend, Ben was able to figure out his next question.

"So, we're clones?" Eric said, trying to filter the doctor's words into something he could understand.

"More or less," the red head answered, shrugging. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but if it helps you understand, then yes. You're clones."

Eric took a deep breath. A large part of him was trying to panic at the news, but he fought it down. Now wasn't the time. He needed more answers.

"Alright. I think I understand some of what's going on now. What was that you were saying about side effects earlier? They sound like they could be a problem."

Letting out a hearty laugh, the doctor quickly responded with an accompanying dismissive hand gesture. "Not at all boyo, in short, it just means that your body has been physically regressed into your early twenties, I'd guess around 22 or 23 by the look of yer face."

Eric must have had shock written all over him because the doctor quickly handed him a mirror.

The first thing Eric noticed was his eye. It was perfect; no scar, no discoloration, nothing. He was so surprised by this it took him a moment to see the rest of his face. It was true; he was biologically in his early twenties. He set the mirror down, trying to hide the shaking in his hands as he forced the shock aside, and continued on with his interrogation.

"Doc, I've got one last question," he said, setting down the mirror. "Why us? We're just a couple of old war criminals."

The older man was about to respond when a female dressed in blue scrubs rushed into the room and whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news as a grim look sprouted on the doctors' face.

"Ah, I'm sorry gentlemen, it seems I'll have to answer your questions another time." He said as he swiftly left the recovery room.

Eric could only lay there stunned, trying to piece together all the new information he had acquired. It was unreal, both of them had died, only to be brought back and given new bodies. He had to double check to make sure it was really his body.

Picking up the mirror, he hashed a glance at the reflective device only to be reassured that it was indeed him. Brown hair, brown eyes, square jaw, everything was just as it was, but younger. He felt like he was looking at his college yearbook.

"Eric, if you keep looking at the mirror, you might crack it."

"What? oh... hehe, yea I guess so. It's just unreal ya know? I mean one minute I'm slipping into deaths harsh embrace, the next I'm awake and alive in a hospital bed."

"I know what you mean, though I'm still trying to piece everything back together myself," John said in a simplistic tone. "I'm not sure whether I'm lucky or not that I don't remember my own death."

"Take it from me," Eric said, voice far away for a brief moment. "You're lucky."

He let out a sigh as he drew his mind away from the memory and looked around the room, taking in his new surroundings. On the wall adjacent to his bed, there was a holo-clock, displaying the time which by local standards was fairly late. The room didn't have any windows sadly, so the clock was all he had to go on. Like most hospitals, or in this case, a recovery room. Looking to his right, he was greeted with the sight of hospital bed bars, which seemed to enjoy obscuring his vision and given that he couldn't sit up straight at that moment, he had to settle with glaring at it.

He couldn't see John's face yet, but if what the doctor told him was correct, then it was safe to assume that his friend was in the same physical condition. He tried to imagine what a younger North would look like, before giving up. He'd just have to wait and see.

"Hey Eric?" the other man's voice broke into his musings.

"Yea?" the brunette asked.

"What's the Samson Initiative?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully, trying to remember. "I don't know much about it myself, but from what I was able to figure out during my travels it was a program designed to provide funding to various research projects, like our own, during the war. You remember that Chairman the Director used to always complain was breathing down his neck?"

"Yeah," John answered.

"Well, he was in charge of keeping an eye on the project," Eric explained. "Y'know, make sure they were using the money properly and all that."

"Oh," John said thoughtfully. "Hey Eric?"

"Yeah?" Eric asked again.

"I think somebody should fire that Chairman guy," John said. Eric could hear the grin in his voice even from here.

"Think you might be right about that," Eric agreed.

Before their conversation could continue, a nurse walked into the room, the same one from before who had on the blue scrubs. Since John was closest to the door, she went to him first. Reaching down, the nurse pushed down a small cotton ball against the man's arm while simultaneously pulling the needle out. Instantly the cotton ball started to soak up the blood as the nurse held it there for well over a minute.

Walking over to Eric, she repeated the same process, though Eric couldn't help but make a small grunting noise when the needle was removed. He hated needles.

"Please follow me when you're fully changed," the nurse instructed before stepping out the door.

Casting his gaze over to John, Eric saw that he was already up and out of bed. He glanced down at the foot of his bed and saw a basic uniform waiting for him. Quickly pulling on the green t-shirt, digital-camo pants, and combat boots, the pair quickly hustled outside where the nurse was waiting. Without saying a word, the nurse led them out of the medical bay, passing several rooms on the way, one of which Eric recognized as the surgery room. Minutes passed before the woman stopped in front of a sealed door, only to quickly whisk herself away back towards the medical bay.

John silently waved to allow Eric to enter first. To anyone else it would have simply seemed like a polite gesture, but York recognized the reasoning behind it. North was a sniper and used to fighting from a distance. He always preferred to be at the back of an engagement if he could help it.

However, before either man could make a move, the door opened, revealing the strange Irish doctor from before.

"Laddies, welcome," he greeted them distractedly. "I'm sorry to say we don't have much time," he said before practically pushing both of the men inside the room.

"I need to keep this rather short," the doctor continued once the door was closed. "Time is of the essence. Project Recycle is one of the few remaining Special Operation programs left over from the war that is still active and being funded. Now, a long time ago there was another project, one that had the potential to be more dangerous than Project Imbalance, the Spartan Program or Project Freelancer. Its name was Project Heretic."

The doctor paused briefly, expecting to see some sort of reaction from the two men. All he received was confusion.

"It was designed to keep mentally unstable soldiers with greatly needed skills in the field," he explained, "often paired with brainwashed covenant forces. Many of the unmonitored agents have gone rogue, and there is a rogue faction that is seeking something in particular that you may find of personal interest, Mr. Eric."

The doctor paused for breath, and Eric took the opportunity to speak up. "What are they looking for?"

"They are hunting after a former Freelancer agent by the name of Carolina, or more specifically, her AI Epsilon. He may have files that the UNSC needs desperately and the Faction is willing to do anything to get it. This is the reason you were brought back," the doctor explained. "We know where she is, but the UNSC doesn't have the man power to spare to go after her, so we thought you might be more willing."

Eric was in shock. She was alive, after all these years. He almost couldn't believe it, was prepared to call this man a liar, except he knew. If anyone could have survived, it'd have been Carolina. He could hardly think from his joy, but he felt the words leave his mouth.

"I'll do it."

His reaction seemed to surprise the doctor, who had expected demands for further explanation and mistrust at his words. John, however, wasn't shocked at all. He knew Eric would do or believe anything to get her back.

"If he's going, so am I," John said. "I might not be as good without my sister guarding my back, but I can't let the locksmith go alone." Eric gave him a thankful smile, and he nodded in response.

"Very well, then," the doctor said happily. "We're glad to have you aboard, Agents New York and North Dakota. Please, let me be the first to welcome you as official members of Project Recycle."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is late. Any why is this chapter late? Because I am bad with schedules, that's why. Also, sorry. I feel like rambling today. I'll stop now.

There was silence for a few moments after the two clones finished their story. Church hovered in front of them, head tilted in a studious manner, but didn't say anything. Carolina's face was set in a scowl that would have scared even the toughest of soldiers.

"'Lina," York said carefully, hoping to get some sort of response. So far she hadn't seemed to even breath, she was so motionless.

"You expect me to believe that?" Carolina finally asked, voice coming out strained from emotion and dangerously quiet.

"It's the truth, as far as we've been told," North said, managing to sound calm despite the lethal woman glaring at him.

"Bullshit," she snapped. "People don't just come back from the dead. It's not possible." She didn't tell them how she knew it, how many ways she knew the Director had tried before. She knew it wasn't couldn't be done. "You're lying," she accused.

"Actually, they're not," Epsilon cut in. "At least not that they know of." He displayed each man's bio-signs on her HUD. "No signs of deception, unless they've gotten way better at hiding it than they were during Freelancer," he explained.

"It's not them." She said bitterly. "They're just clones...copies."

"Yeah, and I'm not really Alpha," he countered. "I'm just the memories, but it's the same thing. They're the same way. They have all the memories of York and North. Right?" he added, looking back at the clones. Carolina glanced at her AI warily, suspecting a bit of Delta and Theta's influence in his argument. She knew they'd be excited to see their partners again.

"I knew that code phrase," York answered. "And I know what that is," he added, pointing to something on Carolina's hip.

She glanced down, eyes fixing on the top of an old, broken lighter she'd almost forgotten she was carrying. "What about it?" she asked evenly.

"I know where you got it," he said, stepping forward despite the fact that she was still armed and keeping him in her pistol's sights. "I had it on me when I died. It must have gotten knocked away when I got shot, or else it would have been destroyed when my armor detonated." He was now standing only a few feet in front of her, the barrel of her gun nearly touching his forehead. "I kept it the whole time. Never let it out of my sight after you gave it back to me during the crash. Just like I knew you'd have held onto it after we first met. You're sentimental like that, even though you don't like people to think it."

As he finished he took one last step forward, resulting in the barrel of the gun touching the skin of his forehead. Carolina and York both knew the armor would do nothing to protect him at this range, even if he had been wearing his helmet, but he didn't waver. Despite the danger, he was smiling, like she'd seen him do on many occasions before. It was the grin of him getting what he wanted, and this time it was aimed at her.

Carolina wavered for a moment, unable to disconnect this face from the one she'd seen so many times, until eventually she reaffirmed herself that this was some sort of trick. "You know," Church's voice echoed through her glare. "Flower's managed to come back to life didn't he?"

"Epsilon." She snapped.

"Carolina, everything points to them telling the truth," Church argued. "I know there's probably more to it than that, but I think we should hear them out."

The redheaded woman grunted, ignoring her AI as she pulled back the hammer of her gun.

"Club Errera."

She froze, the tip of her gloved finger still touching the trigger, but not placing quite enough pressure on it for the gun to fire. Her eyes flicked back down to the lighter. The logo wasn't visible from here, not with how it was tucked behind the gun's holster. Knowing the lighter's significance might have been a lucky guess, but not that. He'd have had to hear that from someone else.

"What's that?" she asked, faking ignorance.

"It's where we first met," York said, hand twitching at his side as he forced himself to not reach out to her. "Where I begged for twenty minutes before you finally gave in and danced with me. Where I stepped on your feet so much I was afraid I'd ruined your career as a soldier. And where I fell in love with the most beautiful and somewhat terrifying woman in the galaxy."

"And in the end... you were so drunk I ended up staying a good portion of the night making sure no one mugged you," she said jokingly.

York grinned, recognizing the trick question. "If by that you mean it was the opposite way around, then yes."

Church laughed beside her. "Never pictured you as a lightweight, sis."

Carolina took a few steps back, feeling suddenly constricted standing so close to the… clone of York. "Epsilon, override sleep cycle protocols, hibernation mode activate."

"Ah, c'mon, that's not fair," he said, blinking a bit as he tried to resist the command.

"Church," Carolina said warningly.

"Look, just let me go over here and talk to North. I don't have to shut down every time you get emotional."

Carolina growled at the accusation, but nodded. "Just stay over there," she ordered, pointing to the head of the ship. North followed the AI, recognizing that his friends needed some time to talk.

"'Lina," York said once he was gone, a bit bolder now that she'd lowered the gun. "You know it's me. Maybe not the original one, but still the soldier you knew."

"York...is it really you?" She said, her voice cracking a little bit. In response, the man simply smiled wider.

"I knew I'd find you again someday," he said, stepping closer to her. "I never believed you were gone, even after that day on the cliff." Carolina took a step toward him as well and he held out his arms for a hug, only to be given a harsh slap.

He staggered back a step, pressing a hand to the side of his face. "Alright, I should have seen that one coming," he said, stretching his jaw a few times and checking his teeth. Carolina slapped harder than most. "Not quite sure I deserved it, though," he added.

"That was for running away," she explained before slapping him a second time. "And that was for dying!"

"You know, funnily enough, I didn't really choose to do the second one," he said, holding his hands in front of his face defensively. "And of course I ran. Maine threw you off a cliff. There was nothing left for me in that project without you."

She simply stared at him for a moment before removing her own helmet. "I-" she paused, unsure of what to say.

York reached out for her again, finally managing to place a hand on her shoulder without getting hit or threatened. "I missed you," he said, gently pulling her closer. "Every day they said you were gone and I had to try my best to not believe it. Why didn't you tell me you were still alive? Why didn't you come find me?"

"I...I had other priorities."

"Something more important than finding me?" he asked, not bothering to mask the hurt in his voice.

Carolina's mouth opened and shut again before she sighed. "I made a mistake," she admitted. "I didn't want to find you because I thought you'd sided with her. I was wrong..." she shook her head as she trailed off, not knowing how to explain everything she'd been through since that day in the snow.

York remained quiet for a moment, the hurt still evident on his face, though he did his best to erase it before he tried to speak."There's been a lot of confusion."

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to look him in the eye. "None of it mattered. I was just playing into the Director's hands. I should have listened to you when I had the chance."

The man in gold was about to respond when a large tremor ran through the ship.

"Hey, guys, you might want to come see this," North called from the cockpit while Epsilon activated the ship's alarms.

"Church, report," Carolina ordered. Instantly the AI appeared over the ship's main console.

"Looks like our friends are back, and they're not happy," he commented in a sarcastic tone; in a short amount of time, Carolina's ship had disengaged from her former teammates' and had begun evasive maneuvers , doing various barrel rolls and side flips while returning what small amount of fire it could.

"Don't you need to be over there?" North asked, watching through one of the monitors as her ship drifted further away in the fight.

Carolina shook her head. "Church will keep them off our backs while we get away, then follow us," she said, reciting the battle plan he's already transmitted to her HUD.

"Follow us where?" York asked, taking the pilot's seat while North moved to a gunner's position.

"Wherever you came from," she answered. "Take me to meet this Dr. Vladimir."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to get out and I'm sorry.

"So you do believe us," York said, sounding pleased.

"Not quite," Carolina corrected, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "You may think you know what happened, but you could still be wrong. I need to see this for myself," she explained.

"While a ship armed with weapons and piloted by a powerful AI is there to swoop in as backup?" North guessed.

Carolina shrugged. "You know I like to have a plan b ready and waiting." She then motioned for them to get moving, aware that Church could only hold off the pirates for so long.

York nodded and began to move, climbing into the pilot's seat while Carolina took her place as co-pilot. "So...what happened to the others? I heard Florida got transferred on some special assignment, Maine went berserk, and I'm not sure about the rookie and South."

"South was with me," North provided. "At least, I think she was. Things are still a little fuzzy."

York nodded, not bothering to ask him to elaborate. Dr. Vladimir had already shown them reports on their former teammates, including news of South's death. He knew the blonde wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"And what about Washington?" York asked then, hoping to change the subject.

"Doing well," Carolina answered, glad to be away from the subject of North's sister. She didn't have all the details, but she knew South was dead and she knew Wash had killed her. She didn't feel right relaying that information without giving Washington the chance to explain further. "He met up with a group of simulation soldiers and helped me kill the Director, then he met an agent from another program. They're getting married soon, last I heard."

"You're kidding?!" York asked with mild surprise as he set their course, entering the coordinates of a small planet in the middle of nowhere. He sent the same coordinates to Church so the AI could catch up with him when he was ready. "What group was it? There weren't too many of our projects used for fighting." While he was happy to hear about it none the less, it still made him realize just how much time had passed. He shook his head, laughing slightly at the thought of the goofy rookie settling down.

"I'm serious, it was called Project Imbalance, though apparently the project was never meant to be used for anything but theory," she said in a casual comment. "Anyway, I believe Wash found a nice little outer planet to settle down on."

North smiled as he settled into the gunner's seat, readying to fight if Epsilon failed to keep their attackers busy. So far he seemed to have the pirates thoroughly distracted from their own vehicle. "We'll have to give him a visit," he suggested. "See what kind of person can keep up with the rookie."

She didn't respond, eyeing the purple armored man. "You should show him you two are alive again, at least. That's not the type of thing you can explain from a distance."

"You know, speaking of David.....is he okay?" North asked from the adjacent section of the ship.

"He's fine," Carolina answered simply.

"You sure?" York asked, sounding concerned. "He seemed pretty messed up when he got that AI. Then they sent him away and no one could find him."

"We left him behind," Carolina corrected, sounding guilty over the fact. She wasn't sure about the other two, but she knew she could have done more to look for her teammate. Instead, she'd run and saved herself, leaving him to the Director for too many years. "But he got better. He's changed a lot since you left," she added quietly. Wash really had recovered more than she'd imagined possible. She knew it was due in no part to her actions, but she still felt proud of him.

York nodded, glad to hear the news. "What about Florida?" he asked after a moment. "Did you ever hear about him?" As he spoke the ship launched into slipspace. York checked quickly that their attackers hadn’t followed before relaxing a bit in his seat.

"Sent to a simulation base to keep an eye on an asset," she answered. "Killed during an accident." She wished she could add something less clinical, but it wasn't possible. Despite Florida's friendly demeanor, no one in the project had really known much about him personally. He'd been the chattiest closed book she'd ever met.

"I see, I can't complain too much though."

"He was odd," Carolina said slowly, picking the word carefully. "But still part of our team. He didn't deserve to die away from anyone who knew who he really was."

"So, who retrieved his body?"

Carolina blinked. "No one actually, as far as I know it was never recovered."

"Wait...so you're saying he could still be alive out there somewhere?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I heard hey torched the base where he died, so if he was there, there might not be anything left."

"Even so, it was standard procedure to destroy any armor and bodies upon death. And I don't think Florida would die that easily."

"Normally I'd agree," Carolina said with a sigh. "But you haven't seen the guys he was stationed with."

"Were they that tough?" York asked, sounding shocked by the idea. The simulation squads he'd encountered in the past had been fairly easy to deal with, if a bit dim witted.

"Accident prone might be a more accurate description," she answered. "I've never seen so many friendly fire incidents reported from a single base."

"Wow, what were they, the most incompetent sim-troopers in the entire program?" He asked the question with a mixture of amazement and horror in his voice.

Carolina chuckled fondly. "Would you be surprised to hear that they were the ones to help me find the Director?"

"Insanely so," York answered. "So what asset was he stationed there for?"

"He was guarding the Alpha."

Both men's heads turned to face her. "Really?" North asked

"Yeah, who'd have thought to look there?" she said in a bitter sweet tone. "A few years later Washington ended up destroying all the AI's except for Epsilon."

"All of them?" York asked.

"Almost," she answered sadly. "The Meta had acquired a lot of the AIs that were given to the other agents. Wash trapped it in the facility where the AIs were stored, even the broken ones and the ones too weak for agents, and he activated an EMP to destroy them."

"What about Delta?" he asked concernedly. "He was with me when I, uh, died. Armor protocol should have deleted him, but I kind of figured D would be smart enough to work around that."

There was a reluctant pause before Carolina answered. "He was captured as well," she stated in a gentle tone, hoping to break the news gently.

"What?" York asked. "How'd that happen? We weren't anywhere near the Meta's last known location."

"It's a long story," Carolina said evasively, glancing toward North again.

"We have time," North commented, indicating the relatively peaceful trip they were having. He now seemed rather interested in the story, though there was quite a bit of sorrow in his voice.

"Look, I wasn't really there," she began. "I can't guarantee I'll remember everything properly."

"Carolina," North said seriously, turning in his seat to stare directly at her. "What are you trying to not tell me?"

The redheaded woman remained uncharacteristically silent.

"Just tell me what happened," he nearly begged.

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know the whole story," she prefaced. "South and Theta were with you when the Meta tracked you down. Theta was taken and South was eventually killed."

"I see..." North trailed off, sinking into his own thoughts. Various feelings began to well up inside the normally cheerful and nurturing man. He supposed this was the downside to his nature. Thoughts began to flash through his mind, from memories of his sister to his first time meeting his AI, and even some jealousy over toward Washington for being given a happy ending while he had been forcibly brought back to life because someone else needed Carolina's help.

"Did they suffer?" he finally asked, unable to keep all of the sorrow from his voice despite how guarded he now sounded.

"I don't think so," she said. She wanted to make this as easy for him as possible, but she didn't like lying to teammates. "It's hard to know what the AIs felt when they were with the Meta, but Delta was there with him, and I like to think they helped each other. And South's death was quick. She probably didn't feel anything."

“How did it happen?" he asked, almost a little too quickly.

"North, you don't need to hear this."

"I need to know!" he snapped. There was silence for a moment as the usually calm man drew in a deep breath. "I barely remember anything. I know South was there. Theta was scared. But then there's nothing. How did Meta get Theta? Didn't South try to protect him? Did we get separated?"

"I don't know," Carolina answered. It was a lie. Washington had explained the entire situation to her before, on a night when he'd been a bit too drunk and the ghosts had been a bit too loud. Still, she didn't want to tell North. Not only did she feel it wasn't her place, but she didn't want to hurt him. He didn't need to know every detail of this. "I know she had to run after the Meta caught up with you. She couldn't save Theta. Eventually something must have caught up with her. I don't know how it happened."

North fell silent, fixing his eyes on the weapons controls in front of him. York and Carolina decided to give him some space, changing the conversation and trying to fill in the ship's awkward silence.

"So, what was this you said about Wash getting married?" York repeated.

"Just that," Carolina answered. "He was helping some agents from another project, and a few months later he was living with one of them. He's really moved on since the project."

"Well, if the kid's getting married then I suppose so, eh'?" North said, surprising the pair by bouncing back so suddenly. York had grown used to this in the past few weeks, though, and sent Carolina a look to just go with it. Their blonde teammate had been cycling on and off like this since he first got word of South's death a few weeks prior, and York found it was best to just ignore it. If hiding his feelings was North's way of coping, York didn't feel it was his place to argue. He'd spent long enough ignoring the possibility that Carolina was dead, after all.

"So when can I expect the marriage between you two?" North then asked in a teasing tone, fully dragging York from his thoughts. He tried to glance over his shoulder to his former leader, but it was made difficult by their respective positions in the ship.

"Can it," Carolina snapped, though the pair knew her well enough to tell this was caused by embarrassment more than anger.

"You know, you aren't our boss anymore, so it's not insubordination, no- OW!" North yelped, the sound caused more by surprise than pain as Carolina has smacked the back of his helmet.

"I'm sorry, what was that Lieutenant?" she asked in a dangerously fake innocent tone.

"York, has anyone ever told you that you have a thing for the crazy ones?" he stage whispered to his friend.

"Don't remind me," York said with a pained groan

"What do you mean 'ones'?" Carolina asked, feigning anger.

"He didn't tell you about the one girl he met in college?" North asked, masking his eagerness to tease his friend with calm interest.

"Please, don't," York begged feebly.

"The one who could talk to trees?" North continued.

York let out a loud, head banging groan as North continued.

"She believed that we could cure the aliens with crystals." North said in near laughter.

"Really?" Carolina asked, eyeing the man in gold armor with renewed interest.

"She tried to make him drink some sort of herbal tea when he said he planned to join the army. She thought it would remove his evil fighting spirit."

"Alright, clearly she was insane, but that was one time!" York attempted to defend himself. "I don't have a thing for crazy women."

"Then there was the girl with the pigs," North said, grin clear in his voice.

"That one was an accident!" York insisted. "I just had the translation wrong. Her colony spoke a weird dialect."

"And the one wanted to wear your skin as a jacket." He continued, counting them off on his fingers.

"I probably should have looked into that cult a bit more before agreeing to the date," York mused.

"The one proposed after three dates," North continued. "And another left you to marry her dog."

"Okay, I get it, I'm bad at judging women," York snapped. "At least I managed a good pick this time."

Carolina held a sour look in her face. "York, I'm not letting this go." She said, obviously upset in her own right.

"In my defense, these were not serious things," York explained. "Most I didn't even date. They were just girls I talked to."

"York," North broke in.

"Yeah?" the locksmith responded.

"We went to college together, remember?"

"Yeah?” York repeated, sounding a bit more worried than before. North bringing up college stories was never a good thing for him.

"I've personally gone on two double dates with you, at which point I bailed us both out."

"And I am highly grateful for that," York said.

"I just want to point out that of all the girls I've seen you date, the only one who isn't completely out of her mind has actually kicked you in the face before," North continued.

"Hey, if you ladies are done talking, which way are we headed?" Carolina snapped as they dropped out of slipspace, finding themselves hovering over an unfamiliar planet. She didn’t get her answer as an instant later their ship shook forcefully.

"Uh, I think your friends caught up with us," York said as he began dodging shots from the pirate ship.

"We're on an island on this planet here," North answered before trying to return fire. "Should be there in a few minutes."

"I thought that AI was going to keep them busy," York said as the ship shook again.

"Fuck off, asshole!" came said AI's voice from the terminal. "I have almost no guns on this damn ship!"

"Aren't AIs supposed to be smarter than people, though?" York asked as he continued trying to evade the attacks. "Couldn't you out fly them?"

"Yeah, because the laws of thermodynamics and space travel totally fucking bend for me," he scoffed. Oh and while we're at it, why don't I just magically give everyone fucking ice cream with the hands that I don't have!"

"It was just a suggestion," York muttered.

"Actually, by your languages definition, using the parameters of the sentence given, that was more of a question then a suggestion," said a familiar voice over the radio before switching back to Church's, who was busy yelling at the guys who were shooting his craft.

"Was that who I think it was?" York asked, though his question was drowned out by the sound of another shot connecting with the ship's hull.

"We can't take any more hits," Carolina informed him. “Epsilon, is there anything you can do?”

“Little busy not getting my ass blown off by these SON OF A BITCH!” he suddenly shrieked. “Jerks are targeting my engines,” he then explained. “One more hit and I’m done for. Sorry, sis, but I can’t really talk now. Need to focus,” he said quickly before going silent.

Another attack from the pirates rocked their ship a moment later. "I'm trying to avoid them," York said before anyone could comment. "We're almost there. See if you can help North buy us some time," he added, glancing back at Carolina.

York radioed ahead with the code that would keep them from getting shot as they neared the base, as well as a distress signal. All he could do now was fly and hope the base had some guns on it.

Carolina meanwhile grabbed the controls for the second gun and tried to get the enemy off their tail.

"Who are these guys anyway?" North asked as he managed to get them to fall back a few feet.

"Some guys we found smuggling weapons," she answered. "They had Michigan's armor."

"You couldn't just leave a loose end like that lying around, and now they're pissed they lost their toy," North guessed.

"Pretty much," Carolina agreed. "Although we did go a little overboard on this one," she admitted. "We took out their whole ware house."

There was a pause as more shots glanced off their hull. Carolina looked up at where York was sitting, recognizing the stressed tension in his shoulders even thought the armor. She knew from experience that he didn't work at his best when he panicked like this.

"Hey York, you remember Indiana right?" she asked suddenly, hoping to take his mind off the danger.

He remained quiet while North returned shots, only to respond when the enemy ship backed off again. "Of course, he was that guy who was really into BDSM on his off time right?"

"Did you know he was really a girl?"

"Bull," York challenged, grip relaxing a bit on the controls, though he still held them firm enough to steer.

"It's true," she insisted.

York shook his head with a laugh. "I mean, I guess it explains some stuff. Like the lack of presence in the shower room. I thought he was just afraid of water."

"Hey, Boss, why are you informing us of former teammates' sexual habits during a fire fight?" North asked casually as he tried to get a clear shot on the pursuing ship. He wasn't having any luck. They seemed to be focusing their target on the ship Church was in, which happened to be blocking them from the pirates.

"To keep the mood light," she answered, focusing on returning fire for a moment.

York grinned, not to be left out on such events. "Oh you remember that one time that Agent from some other project got reassigned to us? I picked his foot locker once, he kept a stuffed animal in there."

"Of all the things you've found in other peoples' lockers, that isn't even in the top ten for weird or amusing," North said, seeming to punctuate the point with a barrage of fire that only just missed the enemy ship.

"I think South has the top three weird slots filled," York said, then grimaced as he realized what he'd said. "North, I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"It's fine," the blonde said, firing a shot that barely avoided hitting Church.

"Watch it, assholes! I'm still in here!" he snapped through the radio.

"Brace yourselves," Carolina announced as they neared a rather remote looking base. The autopilot kicked in once they were above the facility.

"We're gonna need to run the moment we touch ground," York said, already rising from the pilot's seat. "They see we're landing and they seem even more determined than before to blow us up now."

Carolina nodded, ready to run. She tried to not compare this to the countless missions she’d run with York and North in the past, always running and fighting. She didn’t want to connect those memories to the people here with her, in case it all turned out to be just another lie. Still, she couldn’t deny that she felt better now than she had in months. She was still about to run for her life from a ship of angry pirates, and she still wasn’t sure if she could trust the two men in her ship with her, but they felt like her friends, and that was some comfort. She just hoped she wouldn’t be blinded by that same comfort if their claims fell short of the truth.


	7. Chapter 7

Carolina stood at the back of the modified pelican, legs bent and ready to run the moment the hatch opened. She could feel the ship jerk to the side as York tried his best to dodge the incoming fire from the pirates. Meanwhile, North was radioing ahead.

“Sir, I know this isn’t really a combat focused facility, but we really could use some help right now,” he explained in a respectful yet urgent tone. It reminded Carolina of the many times he’d call for extraction during Project Freelancer missions. “Does the base have any sort of defenses?”

“I’ll see what I can do, lad,” a calm voice replied before the feed cut out.

"Whatever he's gonna do, he better do it fast,” Carolina remarked, checking her HUD to see how far they were from this base.

"He'll have our backs," North said with confidence. "Just trust him."

"Do you?" Carolina asked, glancing over at her teammate. She’d thought after Freelancer that they would be as suspicious of new people as she was, but so far they’d shown nothing but respect for this Dr. Vladimir.

North didn't answer for a moment. "I think so," he finally said. "He spent a long time with us after bringing us back, just doing physical therapy and such, and I think he's a good guy."

"Well I wish he'd hurry the fuck up," Epsilon chattered over the radio. "This ship can’t take much mo- Shit! Carolina, the shields just went down."

"How tough is this bird, York?" Carolina asked as she glanced around the inside of the rather old looking pelican. It didn’t look like much, but she could see some reinforcements to the inner hull. She only hoped that meant it could hold up better than most of its kind.

"We can take a few more hits, but that's all,” he advised. “Unless, you know, you like the thought of crashing better than a livable landing."

"Church, fall back," she instructed. "Let them come after us for a bit and try to get the shields back online."

"Gotcha,” he said before cutting the radio.

"York, try to dodge as much as you can," she ordered.

"Already doing that," he answered with just a touch of sarcasm. York kept dodging as the pirates’ ship continued to blast away, most shots missing narrowly. What did connect was absorbed by the ship’s quickly weakening shields.

"Hey, kiddo's, can ya hear me?" an Irish accented voice came through the radios again.

"Loud and clear, Doc," York answered.

"You’re gonna wanna cover your heads for this," the doctor advised before once again going silent.

York ducked down as much as he could in the pilot's seat while North and Carolina crouched in the back of the ship. Carolina's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she waited for their promised rescue.

For a mere moment, it felt like everything stopped; the enemy fire, the beeping, everything. Then just as suddenly, the spell was broken. A sizzling burst of plasma and electricity shot past their ship, flying straight toward their pursuers.

Carolina jerked her head around to watch as the bolt connected with the pirate ship. It seemed to be popping over and over in a chain of explosions, each producing blue bursts of light. After a few moments of this, the ship was nothing but falling debris and ash raining down to the planet’s surface.

"What the hell did he do?" she demanded.

"Don't know," York said as he kept them flying toward the base. "But whatever it was, it was certainly effective."

As they approached the snowy area below, they were able to see a large pile of metal and the remains of a heavily modified Covenant anti-air cannon. There were many now-broken human components and charred bits of machinery scattered around it, as well as two disgruntled looking scientists.

"I thought this guy was doing genetics research," Epsilon's voice came through the speakers.

"Must have borrowed a toy from one of his friends," North shrugged. "Vladimir isn't the only one doing research in this facility."

"Hell of a toy," Church muttered.

"Or it was," York noted.

Church fell silent for a moment, his ship flying a bit closer to the destroyed gun than was strictly necessary. "You know, with a bit more reinforcement to the base it could have worked," he finally decided.

"You're an expert on heavy artillery now?" Carolina asked teasingly, feeling a bit less tense now that they weren't being chased by murderous pirates.

"Sis, by now you should know that I am an expert on everything," he said evenly.

"Right, just like you’re an expert on women, poker, and shooting?" she challenged.

"Yes," he insisted. "I have a lot of knowledge on all of those subjects. Knowledge doesn't have to mean ability. I am still an expert."

"Uh huh," she said in disbelieving condescension. "Well then Mr. Expert, why don't you land the ship?"

"The fuck do you think I plan to do with it, fly laps around the base?" he asked in exasperation. "By the way, I need some actual coordinates for where I'm landing," he added, directing the request to York.

"52, 151,15551," the brunette provided.

"Got it," the AI said. "Don't forget to pick me up once we're on the ground," he added before shutting off his radio to concentrate on landing. York did the same, remaining silent until the landing gear had touched asphalt and they were walking down the ramp at the back of the ship.

Vladimir himself was waiting for them once both ships landed.

"Ah, lads, you made it back safe," he said happily as York and North stepped down the ramp. "Got yourselves into a bit of trouble, though, didn't you?"

"Just some pirates," York said dismissively. "Nothing we can't handle."

"I'm sure it wasn't," the scientist agreed. He then looked to where Carolina was following them down the ramp, her pace slower and more cautious.

"You must be Carolina," he said, stepping toward her with a hand extended in greeting. "Why, you've grown so much. I remember when you were still such a small thing. Leonard was so proud of you," he rambled happily.

The former agent narrowed her green eyes, a few alarms going off in the back of her head. She found it a bit too convenient for this man to have known her as a child. Still, it wasn't uncommon for a man to have associates, and the Director had mentioned some old friend working under the Samson Initiative. But that didn't mean she had to let her guard down.

"Let’s stick to the topic at hand,” she suggested in a none-too-friendly manner. She gestured briefly between herself and the clones of her teammates. “Why did you go through all this trouble? Why bring them back just to get me here?"

"I've felt terrible over what my old friend did for some time," Vladimir began. "I was eager for the chance to fix some of his wrongs. But aside from that, I need your help with a very important matter."

"And what is that, exactly?" Carolina asked.

"Another former associate of mine, Major Reclin, has disappeared," Vladimir explained. "I believe he may be seeking a similar path as our own Leonard Church."

Carolina scowled at the sound of that name, but continued with her questions. "And why does this concern you?" she asked.

"The good Major has taken something very valuable of mine and I would very much like it back."

Carolina smirked inside her helmet. Finally, they were getting closer to the truth. Doing something like this out of the goodness of one's heart seemed unlikely, but she knew from experience that scientists would move mountains to keep their research.

"What did he take?" she asked.

"Aside from a few psychological profiles of some of my staff members?” Vladimir queried. “He also took my research data on the unified genetic theory that allowed me to bring back your fine friends."

Carolina's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "If he took it, then how could you make them?"

The man tapped his forehead. "Isn't that obvious, lass?"

"If you have backups, then why do you need the research back? Is it so bad that this Major has it?"

"I believe so, yes," Vladimir said sadly. "But it is quite a long explanation as to why, and I think your friend over there is growing restless," he added, nodding to a space over her shoulder.

Carolina looked behind her to see her own ship parked behind the one York and North had arrived in. A light on the front was blinking in an odd pattern, and she was sure there would be a nasty message there if she bothered to decode it.

"Excuse me,” she said, leaving to retrieve her AI.

When she reached the ship's cockpit she found an irritated Epsilon tapping his foot. "You actually almost forgot me," he accused.

"I did not forget you," Carolina insisted. "The man who made the new York and North is down there. I thought you could wait for a minute while I tried to get a sense of him."

"And?" Church prompted. "What do you think?"

"Not sure yet," she admitted. "He's... odd. Friendlier than I'm used to."

"Friendly doesn't always mean bad," he pointed out. "Though I still think we should be careful."

"Agreed," she said before yanking him from the ship. "And Church?" she continued once she was back in his head.

"Yeah?" he replied, speaking directly into her mind.

"I know the memory fragments are probably excited to see York and North again, but try to keep them hidden. Just until we're sure these are really our friends."

"Heh, try telling Theta that."

"You could always let Gamma explain to him how they might be lying," she suggested jokingly. She was fully aware of Epsilon's feeling toward some of his brothers, and which ones he had deemed too dangerous or untrustworthy to be allowed to manifest.

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Epsilon said with disgust. “Though I may ask him for help judging if this Vladimir guy is telling the truth,” he added thoughtfully.

“Just keep him out of sight,” Carolina repeated as she put her helmet back on.

By the time the pair made their way back over, Vladimir had begun explaining the finer mechanic's of genealogy, which seemed lost to everyone present.

"Yet another long winded scientist," Church sighed, sitting on Carolina's shoulder. “This is gonna be a pain.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Carolina kept a brisk step as she made her way down the research facilities sterile halls. The cold look of the corridors was something she had grown used to as a soldier, most military bases were like this. Still, the look of the place combined with the presence of the untrusted doctor had her on edge.

"Doc?" York asked, staying right beside her.

The research scientist turned his head but didn't slow. "What is it, boyo?"

"Uh, where are we going?" he asked. There was a certain strain to his voice that sounded uneasy. This was a section of the base he and North hadn’t been to yet. That mixed with Carolina’s obvious tension had him mentally preparing for something to go wrong.

A quick glance North’s way showed the usually perceptive blonde held a similar feeling. It had always been natural to read their leader’s body language to see how a mission was going. Right now she was practically projecting danger and unease in her every move.

"A quiet place,” the older man replied, unaware of the silent communication going on behind him. “Can’t have an important conversation like this surrounded by noisy workers and machinery, right?”

The man’s words seemed to do wonders to calm York and North, though a small portion of their unease remained as they nodded.

After a few more quick turns, they somehow managed to navigate through the large base without separation. From the looks of it, Carolina had to guess that at one time this pace wasn't meant for research. The various, elaborate and complex hallway designs told her that it was a firefight outpost.

"Ah, here we are,” Vladimir finally announced, opening a small, almost invisible door with the swipe of his hand.

Inside they found a small office, complete with an old style wooden desk and enough chairs to accommodate each of them. Vladimir moved to a chair behind the desk, motioning for his guests to take a seat across from him.

North and York complied quickly while Carolina stayed standing behind them. "I assume this is where you're going to tell me why your research is too dangerous to be in anyone else's hands," she said with folded arms.

"Aye,” the doctor agreed. “Tell me, have any of you kiddos heard about Project Heretic?"

"The name is familiar," Carolina said, which was partially truthful.

“It was a UNSC sponsored program designed to interrogate captured Covenant, at least according to official records. It was actually a project focusing on brainwashing and mental manipulation. As well as extracting any information they could from prisoners, it also sought to turn them into our allies as both sleeper agents and foot soldiers,” Vladimir explained.

“They were highly successful. Most of those under Reclin’s care turned into fully functioning UNSC agents, capable of carrying out any mission given to them while blending seamlessly into the alien ranks. The few failures, however, could only ever be considered feral monsters. That kind of manipulation and torture…” he trailed off before heaving a sigh and continuing with the story.

“Now, during the course of the war, the UNSC was willing to cover up these activities in exchange for the agents the project provided. But once it was over, they had a problem. They needed their dirty secrets hidden from the Covenant ad ordered for the execution of these brainwashed agents.”

“I’m guessing Major Reclin didn’t comply,” Carolina said.

“No, of course not, though it was for no good or noble reason, I assure you,” Vladimir confirmed. “He’s more than dedicated to his research, he’s obsessed. The thought of destroying working test subjects, or worse, halting his studies altogether, was unacceptable to him. He gave a command for all of his subjects to run and he ran with them. It was only after this that it was discovered he’d been experimenting on human soldiers assigned to his security team as well as the alien prisoners he’d been sent. None of them have been seen since.”

Vladimir took a moment to reorganize his thoughts before continuing. “Towards the end of the war, Reclin and I worked closely together. He would often requisition agents from me, presumably ones that had died in the course of his research, though at the time I had thought they were merely valuable assets.

“When they ran, he ordered one of these agents to steal some of my research. See, now that the war is over he cannot rely on a steady stream of captured subjects, and kidnapping could lead to him being caught. I believe he intends to use my methods to clone his already existing agents and further his research.”

Vladimir looked up at Carolina and Church as he finished, eyeing them expectantly.

"While all of that is terrible, assuming you're telling the truth, it still doesn't explain what it has to do with us," Church chimed in after a long pause.

"Because... I can't go through official channels," he answered a bit sheepishly.

"Why?"

"They'll execute him for his crimes."

"Is that supposed to be a problem?" the AI asked scornfully. "This Reclin guy sounds like a pretty bad dude."

"He's a psychiatrist... one of the best. He graduated with a M.D. at 18. But the laddy is sick. He doesn't deserve it,” Vladimir insisted. “I worked with him for years. I should have seen the signs of his illness. If I had paid enough attention to my friend, I could have prevented this.  Please, help a foolish old man right his own wrongs?"

Carolina shifted her feet a bit, drawing his attention back away from Church. "Why us?" she repeated. "If cloning costs as much as you say, then you easily could have hired some mercs to find this guy. Why did you go to so much trouble to get our help?"

"Because I want to make sure the job is done right and by the people who should correct it. Lass, your father, the Major and I used to be very good friends. Out of respect for Church," he paused when he noticed the AI. "Er, the original one, I don't want to go into further detail. But he had a hand to play in all of this too. If he was still around and I was twenty years younger, we would have handled this ourselves.”

Carolina stared at him a while longer. "There's something else you're not telling us," she accused.

"Lass, there are a great many things I haven't told you, but none of them are important for you to know," Vladimir said with a small smile.

"Listen, dude, we need as much info as possible if we're going to do an-"

"Church, that's enough," Carolina said, silencing the AI’s tirade. "If,” she began, "we help you, I don't want you withholding anything from us."

"I'll tell you what you need to know when you need to know it,” he promised. “But until you see some things for yourself, you won't understand.” Carolina could feel Church’s annoyance at the vagueness of the statement but chose to overlook it.

"One more thing," Carolina said, glancing at the two men seated on her side of the desk. "Let Epsilon look over any files you have on the cloning of agents New York and North Dakota."

"Of course,” Vladimir agreed, typing out a few commands on his desk’s computer. “Young man, if you wouldn't mind checking your inbox, you’ll see all the information you need,” he said before waving them off.

Carolina stood by the door and waited for York and North to pass before once again walking behind them.

"You know, you don't have to do that," York said after a moment.

"Do what?" she asked.

"Keep us both in sight at all times," North answered. "Kind of makes me feel like you don't trust us." He said it lightly enough, but she knew there was some level of accusation there.

"I... it's just hard, I still need some time to understand it all,” she said, a tad more quite than usual.

"How about a sparring match, then?" York suggested. "You always said that the best way to get to know someone was on the training floor. What better way to let you see it's the real us?"

"I don't trust you and you're suggesting I let you try to fight me?" she questioned humorously. She tried to keep sounding cold. She really did. It was just so hard to not respond like she used to when he looked and sounded so much like York.

"I'm serious," he said. "You can even take us both on if you want."

"Alright,” Carolina agreed eventually. She knew it was probably a bad idea, but she needed to test them. She needed to see if these really were her friends. And testing how they take a punch was always a good start. “Alright, lead the way.”


End file.
